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Mondays suck - except in the summer, thanks to the Bryant Park Summer Film Festival.

If you can, get there early; last Monday by 7 p.m. there were only a few spaces left. Once I found somewhere to sit, I had to occupy myself for a few hours, and was ill-prepared (see list below). The crowd was a good mix of people who looked like they just came from work and people who looked like they didn’t work that day at all. Two hippie kids played tag, hopping from blanket to blanket - which looked fun, but I wouldn’t recommend it unless you want to piss people off - and to my right, a more “civilized” couple ate cheese and crackers.

For future showings I’d suggest the five B’s:

1. Book

2. Box of pizza

3. Beer (or booze, pick your poison)

4. Bug spray

5. Blanket

The bug spray is imperative if you don’t want to scratch your skin from now until Labor Day.

The blanket is also key. I carried a small one. I approached a few people hogging huge expanses of grass without blankets and asked if they would mind if I sat in the corner. Two girls and one earphoned hipster guy said, yes, they did mind, it was their grass.  I guess in New York, you’ll pay a thousand dollars for a small windowless room with a twin bed, but the grass is yours for absolutely free!!!

The screening started with a Looney Tunes cartoon, and followed by “Bullitt”. The ‘uncool’ boys in the crowd roared for the Road Runner. The ‘uncool’ chicks cheered for Steve McQueen.

If you have the chance I highly recommend experiencing New York City’s version of a drive-in. The lawn opens at 5 p.m. and movies begin at sundown. Check here for a complete listing.

Madonna came to town this week for the first set of six sold-out shows at Madison Square Garden.  I’d gotten the memo (and heard all sorts of theories on it, from bikram yoga temperatures to voice preservation methods) about the lack of air conditioning, so I’d dressed in little clothing and brought bottled waters. Still, the heat didn’t stop the guys on both sides of me from disco-dancing, singing, and sweating from the moment the lights lowered.

Madonna appeared on stage forty-five minutes after the time stated on the ticket, and made her entrance in a globe that peeled away from her like a blooming flower. For the first part of the show, she and her dancers wore black leather riding gear, complete with headgear, jodhpurs, bits, and whips. Yes, she whipped her dancers. Images of her ex-rays and vintage footage of riders tumbling off horses flashed on the screen behind her. It was clear that Madonna is marked by the accident that befell her almost a year ago. It was also obvious that she has fully recovered and she wants everyone to know it.

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This past Tuesday night I hit up the weekly artists group hosted by Naked Angels. The first thing I noticed was that the outside of the Tribeca Screening Room is now plastered with Tribeca Film Festival signs, like wrapping paper for the great gifts that must lie within if Robert DeNiro has anything to do with it. Major improvements have been made to the interior as well. The bar area is more spacious than I last remembered it, with cozy leather booths semi-circled around candle-lit tables.

There were only three people at the bar, but after several minutes, more began to trickle in. I used to joke that for an offbeat theatre group, the ensemble was city-fiably beautiful, with a handful of eternally wounded types mixed in…but to my surprise Tuesday’s crowd seemed approachable.  Joe Danisi, one of the directors of Tuesdays@9, mingled with the crowd. He looked tanned and handsome as usual, in that is-he-or-isn’t-he-gay sort of way.

A man sat down at my table, in the chair to my right, without speaking.  He looked alot like a larger Vern Troyer. (“Mini-Me”, for those not familiar with the actor’s name.) He removed a hardcover copy of American Democracy from his green messenger bag and began to read…and shift…and fidget…and squirm some more.

“Vern” grabbed his green messenger bag and rummaged through it, then turned it over and shook it furiously. Finally, a packet of Raisenettes spilled out of the bag and onto the table. But he had not found what he was looking for. He ran his hand throughout his bag again and started to curse.  Then he turned to me.

“Can I have a piece of paper?” he asked.

I was a little scared, so I gave him two.

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